


Something I can never have

by suzakukills



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-07
Updated: 2012-11-07
Packaged: 2017-11-18 03:36:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/556456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suzakukills/pseuds/suzakukills
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kise and Kasamatsu are both in College, they both play basketball in the school's team - Kise is a struggling actor trying to find a job and Kasamatsu a full-time student... when down on his luck, Kasamatsu offers him to move in together while finds a new job and, really, it has got to be the hardest thing, spending everyday with somebody who would never love you back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something I can never have

**Author's Note:**

> This is written from Kise's Point of View

For three months it actually felt like my life was a chapter out of some cheesy Boy’s Love manga – you know, the kind that has an extremely trusting and kind (and sexy to boot) apartment owner take in an unexpectedly handsome soul right from the streets and into a wonderful dynamic consisting  of “you do the housework, food and keep me company. I bring in the bread and fuck you senseless”.

Except by the time the fourth month came around, I didn’t get a happy ending or a one true love.

I had been trying to push him away from me for weeks, he made his choice and he wasn’t letting go of her, and I couldn’t keep pretending that I was okay with it, or that I could be some sort of body warming replacement for the person that he could never have; but he saw through that, and despite my pushing and ignoring and evading, he walked up to me and asked me if everything was okay, _really okay_ , I told him that I had been busy because my lease was coming up at the end of the week and I had nowhere to go. He didn’t hesitate, he offered up his couch and said I would most definitely crash there until I found a place. He proceeded to apologize for the small apartment  (as if I’d already agreed) and told me that I could move in whenever I needed it to, just give him a heads up so he could give me a spare key or go with me to fetch my stuff from my old place.

Thinking back on it, it must have been the fact that I recognized that as the ultimate opportunity to make him change his mind on the matter, I thought that he was unconsciously accepting me, maybe even willing to give me a chance. So I agreed, and a couple of days later we went by my apartment, packed everything and moved it to his place.

I was down on my luck in more ways than one, I still had not managed to find a job (though I’d been searching for months) and the money kept flowing out, but never flowing in. He understood that, so he said that I wouldn’t have to pay rent, that if a couple of weeks could help me get back on my feet it was a small price to pay to see me happy. He was doing it again, not realizing that his kindness was enough to smother me, to make my stubborn heart race and my head draw out impossible scenarios.

So I did my part (without him asking): I cooked, I cleaned and I spoiled him rotten when he was pulling an all nighter studying. I got our favorite movies to watch and held his hand when he got a bit scared at the plot, he didn’t seem to mind. But for him it was never a big deal – I don’t think he was ever fully aware of my feelings, or maybe he didn’t want to be.

We had sex once. It was pathetic. I always joked around with him, touched him in inappropriate places while having this devilish look on my face but he never took it seriously, always swatted my hand away or told me to stop joking around. One night he stopped moving my hand away, I was a bit of a bastard, I knew the why behind his sudden surrender – that girl he had been in love with since the moment he met her had broke the news that she was moving in together with her boyfriend.

 So, for him, this unrequited love took a step further away. I know it hurts, I had to  take in the pain of being with somebody who would never love me back everyday too. So I took what I could, half-hoping that our physical connection would make our hearts fall in synch.

They didn’t. Matter of fact it made everything worse.

I found a job soon after that (Was I ever looking seriously for one?), and I knew that finding a job meant that I was supposed to move out.

The schedule was hectic, I had to work at night and sleep through the day. Didn’t get to see him much, except on the weekends – but I always seemed to have an excuse ready to not be home, he probably thought that I was out having a blast, partying, but matter of fact there were days where I just sat in the park by the apartment, waiting until he’d be asleep so I could slither in and avoid all contact. I couldn’t look him in the eyes, I felt like shit.

Replaying the sex scene all over again was enough to make me want to puke. He didn’t moan, he didn’t gasp, and he kept his eyes shut the entire time, I could see he was trying with all his might not to open them. I didn’t ask him if he was doing it because he was imagining being with her or if it was because he didn’t want to have this type of memory with me. But I could tell it was painful for him, every thrust earned a small muffled sound, like he was hurting all over. My head wasn’t even into it anymore after seeing him crumbled like that below me. So he stopped me for a bit, turned over, giving me his back to look at instead of his pained face, and asked me to do it rough and do it hard. I did. I don’t even know if he came or not, but after I did he got up and slinked his way to the bathroom. He stayed there for what seemed like an hour, I could hear the water running and though I will never know I swear there was a sound that was a bit too much like crying – I pretended to be asleep when he came out of there, he sat down on the bed and whispered and I’m sorry, just barely out there, I wanted to tell him there was nothing to be sorry for but It never quite made sense to assume that it was for me, I guess it was to himself.

He grabbed the pillow and headed out to the couch, it was the first night in weeks that we’d slept apart like this, though the first week I moved in I took the couch that had stopped within days. He told me that I needed my rest and offered half of his bed under the condition that there was no _funny business_. So I had grown accustomed to falling asleep to his uneven breathing and senseless mumbling.

That had hurt a lot more than the miserable sex, being denied of being next to him and drifting to sleep. I wanted to hold him, to comfort him and to tell him that everything was going to be okay – that even though they had moved in together it wouldn’t work out anyways, to hang in there, to keep his hopes up. But it would have been pointless. I had taken advantage of him and that was something that he would realize tomorrow, when he was back to his senses.

After that bad episode, the days seemed to move forward on some sort of rushed haze. Maybe it was the fact that working at night was screwing with my bio clock but I couldn’t tell the days apart anymore. I was always in a bad mood, I remember coming home in the morning and seeing him sitting by the computer, trying to get some work done, blasting some music and I must’ve yelled a couple of times to keep it down. Because after a while I noticed that he was always wearing headphones, and he tried to be out of the house by the time I got back  - we only got to see each other when we trained together.

He never blamed me for what happened that night, and he tried to let us slip back together to that comfortable familiarity we used to have, though it had been a month since I had gotten a job, he had never once pressed for me to start looking for an apartment. I came home to find breakfast in the table and a note saying that I should eat something or I was going to disappear (the weight loss was something that everybody started noticing). It was this type of detail that kept pulling me back and stopped me from ever opening the classified ads and look for a place to live in, I wanted to make it work despite everything.

So in some sort of atonement I tried my best to help him with what he wanted most… and I kept making excuses for us three to go out- for lunch, dinner, a movie, clubbing. His mood lightened up and he kept thanking me over and over for it, though nothing seemed to change at all. If I wasn’t with them they would hardly strike a conversation, I served as a catalyst but nothing really changed. I knew very well that his love would remain unrequited, so deep down that must have been the reason that I seemed eager to help. I thought that if he saw he didn’t stand a chance then just maybe he could be free of whatever it is he felt for her. So my ill-mannered intentions backfired.

He did come to realize that there was nothing that could ever gain him the type of attention he wanted, so he did the next best thing and found somebody else to replace her. Needless to say that somebody else wasn’t me. I also think that redirecting everything he felt into somebody else made him believe he was actually happy with this new person.

For the first time in months he asked me how my search for a new apartment was going.

He didn’t have to say it again, I understood quite loudly. There was a new person in the picture and there wasn’t any room for me to be here. This had not been the first time that something like this happened, there had been a somebody else before. But that had never prompted him to ask me to move out. So this gave me a sickening feeling, and my stomach turned and I knew that I had managed to royally fuck up everything, I had destroyed my own happiness. I suppose it was Karma.

I don’t think I will ever fully forgive myself. Though he seemed happy, though he smiled again. I could only sit and watch from outside. I became angry, I became irritated, so I deepened my bond with that old flame of his, maybe as revenge, maybe because she was the only thing that linked me to him anymore.

So I carried on, like I had finally closed the wound, though it was still pouring blood all over the place. I moved out, I did not even tell him that I was leaving, I grabbed my things (which oddly enough fit in a couple of boxes whilst thinking “Really? This is all I have?” and left the spare key on the night table. Not even a goodbye note.

My change in attitude didn’t go unnoticed, though, and this time around there were no apologies or smiles or attempts to bring us back together with meals and cute notes. This time around he mimicked my behaviour and started avoiding me or making snide remarks when I was involved. It only served to further infuriate my heart.

This went on, back and forth, for another couple of months.

Then he decided to call it quits, to stop this bantering. And he tried to make up, I evaded him like the plague and never once answered his phone calls or his texts.

Then we had that trip to the national tournament. The team plotted to get us to make up, so they made us room together, at first it seemed like the perfect chance. But I noticed how he would never let go of that damn phone, kept having the stupidest smile on his face whenever it rang and he texted back, the low point for me was when he got that phonecall, almost at midnight, and left the room to answer it. When he came back I jumped him like a tiger, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to gain from it, but I pounced him when he lied down on his assigned bed. He smiled at first, laughed, for a moment thought we were back to our old selves, like we finally were ready to put the bad feelings behind us. But I made sure that smile was gone pretty damn fast, I kissed him. I was forceful, and he tried to move away from me, but I kept trying to keep my lips pressed to his mouth. I moved my hands and snaked them down his pants. He kept crying and screaming _stop, this isn’t funny, stop right now_. But I didn’t stop. Maybe I wanted to end up at a point of no return and just wanted him to hate me forever, to feel something that would transcend time too.

I was like a dog in heat, and he didn’t stop bucking around. Finally, though, a well placed punch to the jaw got me to calm down, he pushed me down and into the floor and grabbed his cellphone from the nightstand. He looked at me for a second, his eyes had an unrecognizable look upon them and he ran out of the room. We didn’t talk for the rest of the trip (or the month).

Then December came around and we had our traditional Christmas dinner, it was a team only type of thing so it was something everybody looked forward to, it usually started at a fancy restaurant then we went to some hot new club – then it ended at one of the Upper classmen’s house with a lot of alcohol, a lot of women and a lot of partying. I don’t think he’d ever missed a party since we’d been here.

So he came in a bit late to the restaurant, he greeted everybody just by smiling and waving his hand a awkwardly; I noticed his eyes wondered around, perhaps still looking for that old flame of his, and I saw them widen when he noticed that I was sitting next to her. I guess I was too far down to stop the hurting now.

He sat at the other end of the table and made small talk with everybody, everybody always loved to talk to him, he was just that type of guy. We were still having our entrees when I noticed him walking down to where I was sitting, I figured he wanted to properly greet the person next to me, but I was wrong.

 _Can we talk?_ , he asked as he kneeled down next to me, as not to draw a lot of attention to us, and I shook my head. _Please_ , he tried again, and smiled like he did before we got into this mess. I sighed and put down the napkin and we went outside. He told me that he’d missed me and that he wanted everything to back to the way it was before, that it was hard not having me around to talk to and to laugh with. All I could think was, if it was that freaking hard you shouldn’t have left me to go run into some stranger’s arms when you had me all along. I was still angry, so I shouted hurtful words and went back inside, leaving him standing there with the words still coming out of his mouth.

He did end up coming back inside a few minutes after that, he looked quite shaken up. I noticed he walked down to where he was seating and grabbed his phone from the table, as he shook hands with everybody. He ran out of there before they even served the main plate and didn’t look back.

 I guess it’s safe to say that at this point the anger I had inside had turned into self-hatred for the fact that I kept hurting him when all I wanted was to shout that I loved him

Cue another three months or so and I had spent them looking for a way to apologize and make things right again, because as much as I could tell the world that I felt some kind of freedom in not having to be around him all the time, I knew I was lying and I’m sure half the time everybody else knew it too.

Then news got to me that he had finally left that new lover of his. So I jumped at the opportunity and called him up, he did not answer. So I put down the phone, took a big breath and decided to try again at some other time. Trying to keep the little voices in my head screaming _He is never going to pick up, you have really lost him this time_. But then the phone rang, his name blinked over and over in the caller i.d. and I hesitated, but I picked up nonetheless. He sounded happy, and asked me how I’d been, said that he had called me last week but had gotten no answer. I told him I was out of the country to visit an old relative, I could feel his smile on the other end of the line. I was silent for a minute, this seemed too unreal, almost like we were back to normal.

Let’s have dinner. I said out of the blue, I heard him chuckle but he agreed. Though dinner turned into an on-the-go café since we both were too busy to take a night off. We both apologized, he said that these few months had been hard without me, I told him that I was glad we could sit down and talk and never told him the truth. Never said I was going crazy and thought that we might never ever end up talking again. He seemed to accept what I did say though, and told me that he had something for me, something he’d been keeping since last Christmas, so he took out a worn out wrapped box and handed it over. It was amazing how we both were so synchronized, I took out a small paper bag with an over sized chocolate bunny inside, the type of treat he adored, and handed it over. We both laughed our heart’s content at the scene.

As I paid the bill, reassuring him that he’d get the next one, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that we were finally back where we belonged. I wasn’t quite ready to give up on there ever being an Us. But I was ready to take whatever he gave me.

 

 


End file.
